


i'm on fire

by mingowow



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, Feelings Realization, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Some angst, gyuhao endgame, idol dating a normie, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingowow/pseuds/mingowow
Summary: minghao has never ever been the jealous type... but it's never too late to change.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Original Male Character(s), Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 13
Kudos: 191
Collections: BBBFest Debut Round: The Bittersweet Option





	i'm on fire

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i wrote this fic for the bbbfest. the prompts i filled were:
> 
> -only thing scarier than what you've become is knowing you had it in you all along  
> -ruining a normie's life by dating them  
> -bedsharing as a coping mechanism
> 
> i wanted to try exploring jealousy with minghao, as it isn't something i really associate with him at all.
> 
> title is from the bruce springsteen song, which was a major inspiration for this. mark wilkinson's cover of it was on loop as i wrote. 
> 
> unbeta'd, we die like men!!!!
> 
> please let me know what you think as this was a new type of story for me to write, a bit outside of my comfort zone.
> 
> thank you and please enjoy~

Surprised isn’t the right word, because Minghao wasn’t _surprised_ when Mingyu had told him. He hadn’t necessarily been expecting it either, it hadn’t been something that had really crossed his mind at all honestly.

Mingyu’s sexuality didn’t matter to him, he was his best friend regardless.

So when Mingyu tells him one night from the other hotel bed (room pitch black from the tightly drawn curtains because Minghao can’t sleep well when the lights outside filter in) that he’s gay, Minghao doesn’t really know how he is supposed to react.

“Alright,” is all he says.

“Alright?” There’s a very evident quiver to Mingyu’s voice that Minghao doesn’t hear too often at all. Mingyu is overflowing with bravado and confidence, even when he has to fake it.

But he still knows what that shakiness means: his best friend is _scared_.

“Yeah. Alright.” Minghao pauses as he tries to say something more eloquent, perhaps something that will settle the other’s nerves more effectively. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. You can tell me anything, you know?”

He hears the sheets from the other side of the room rustling and his eyes have finally started to adjust to the blackness. He can vaguely make out Mingyu’s silhouette so he can tell the other is looking over at him too.

“I know,” Mingyu replies, voice quiet. “I just… I hope you don’t think of me differently.”

Something deep in Minghao’s chest twists painfully because of course not, something like this would never alter his opinion of Mingyu. His first reaction is to be slightly offended at the implication that he would have any negative opinion on anyone simply because of their orientation. But he quickly comes to his senses, despite his exhaustion. It’s more complicated than that, he knows. Mingyu’s worried about their friendship, their connection, the dynamic of the group… probably their tendency to exchange physical affection too.

He wishes that they weren’t a room’s length apart, his hand instinctively reaching out to give his best friend a comforting squeeze; but all he gets is a fistful of sheets, twisting them in his grip.

"I don't wanna ruin--"

"Mingyu," he interrupts. He can see the other's silhouette shrink slightly. "Of course not. Nothing will ever change things between us, ever."

He had meant those words, of course. Nothing had ever crossed his mind as a possible deterrent from Mingyu or their friendship; what the two of them had forged over the years was unbreakable.

But while things never broke, they did (slightly) change.

It all starts to unravel one evening when Mingyu comes home fairly late.

Minghao and a few of the other guys had been practicing all day for a special unit stage and were just now eating a super late dinner, food spread out on the table in one of the dorms.

Mingyu seems to sneak in just as they are about to all plop down in front of the TV and dig in.

"Oh, you're back?" Wonwoo calls out. "Where were you? Hanging out with Eunwoo?"

Mingyu shrugs off his jacket and Minghao knows something is off by his demeanor alone. He seems on edge, as if he's hiding something. He’s never been good at hiding anything, the poor guy.

"Um, no," he replies, surely attempting to sound casual. Minghao can hear the slight break in his voice though.

"What did you do tonight?" Joshua asks. Minghao bites back his smile because he knows their hyung has picked up on Mingyu's nerves too and he would never skip a chance to tease one of his dongsaengs.

"I was out." Mingyu scampers towards the hallway to escape but Wonwoo springs to his feet and boxes him in.

"Uh yeah, clearly. Doing what?" Joshua pushes further with a small laugh.

Mingyu heaves a sigh, frowning at Wonwoo before looking at the group clustered on the floor. His eyes flicker over to Minghao in particular before he looks up at the ceiling.

"I was on a date, okay?"

"What?!" come the gawks of nearly everyone else in the room. Except for Minghao, who sits silently stunned.

"Wait, you were on a _date_?" Soonyoung asks through a mouthful of food.

"With who? Was it Eunwoo?" Wonwoo presses.

"Gross, no! God, what's with your obsession with Eunwoo?" Mingyu whines, finally using his size to his advantage and shoving past Wonwoo to dart into his shared room, door slamming behind him.

The members present waste no time chatting and whispering and theorizing about who Mingyu could possibly be on a date with.

Minghao stays quiet, robotically shoveling food into his mouth, his eyes constantly flickering to the closed door of Mingyu's room.

The hot topic thankfully soon dies out, arguments over who gets the last bits of food or swigs of Coke winning out when it comes to importance.

Minghao doesn’t partake in any of it but he only excuses himself back to the other dorm when he sees the light from under Mingyu’s door go out.

On the walk up the flight of stairs, he sends Mingyu a photo of Soonyoung with rice-filled cheeks, while Shua pours copious amounts of Cola into his open mouth in attempts to see how much the dancer can hold.

Mingyu doesn’t send anything back besides a singular ‘ _ha_ ’.

For whatever reason, Minghao sleeps awfully that night.

The next day, they're headed to the airport and he knows Mingyu is still stewing from the night before. He's always been the type to deal with his issues and concerns on his own. While it's obvious to everyone in a twenty-kilometer radius that he's unhappy, the other members know to give him space. If he wants company, he'll seek it out himself.

But Minghao throws that caution to the wind when he sits beside him in the terminal and grasps the other’s hand to pointlessly inspect his ring.

"I'm fine," Mingyu tells him, dully.

"I never said you weren't," Minghao counters.

There's a long stretch of silence but soon enough, Mingyu is loosening up, his shoulders relaxing, his lips unlocking.

“I just don’t want it to be a big deal.”

“Mm,” Minghao hums in understanding, nodding his head. He can’t help but smile a little when Mingyu starts to return the gesture of playing with his fingers, lacing and unlacing them, tracing knuckles. “I think it would be a big deal no matter who it was, yeah? Everyone is just interested in your life.”

Mingyu snorts, too loudly. “You know they’re extra interested because it’s a guy.”

“I don’t know,” Minghao shrugs, and he really doesn’t. Maybe there is some additional curiosity from the other members but he doubts it’s for the reasons Mingyu is implying. It’s not because it’s another guy; it’s because, as of now, it’s something they all assume Mingyu wants to keep quiet. A secret is always all the more tantalizing to want to find out.

Boarding starts just then and while Minghao still has a thousand questions on his mind, he’s really just happy that Mingyu has started to open up about things.

Evidently the rapper isn’t finished sharing either, given how he’s lingering near the entrance to the jetway, clearly waiting for Minghao. It’s clear by how he starts moving again once Minghao is beside him.

"You don't know him," Mingyu tells him in a hushed voice, once they're situated on the plane.

(Minghao had switched seats with Vernon once he realized that Mingyu was hovering around him, a silent request for them to be seated together.)

When it comes to the more negative side of the emotional spectrum, Mingyu is a bit like a volcano. He stews and bubbles beneath the surface, his exterior somber but never explosive. But if one looks closely, they can sense when he’s about to blow. And once he starts, it’s impossible to stop it. You just gotta wait it out, for the lava to stop flowing itself.

And while Minghao doesn’t force him to share anything, he does have his ways of encouraging his best friend to spill his guts.

Not for his own curiosity, he assures himself. It's for Mingyu. Mingyu, who never shares his burdens with anyone. Mingyu, who thinks he needs to fight each battle alone. Even if it's seen as aggressive, he's doing this for Mingyu. _You can talk to me_ , he forcibly reassures the other, telepathically.

"We went to school together."

That surprises Minghao, whose face betrays him. "You're childhood friends?"

"Sort of? We weren't that close but we reconnected through mutual friends like a year ago and... yeah, I don't know. He’s cool."

Minghao nods and busies himself with buckling his seatbelt. It’s a delicate decision, how to respond. He wants to be honest but he doesn’t want to seem condescending or overly concerned with Mingyu’s choices. It’s his life after all.

But there _are_ a lot of worries. If Mingyu doesn’t know the guy all that well, can he really be trusted? Mingyu’s not publicly out and dating someone, let alone a non-celebrity, is risky if he wants to keep things that way.

The thoughts start racing and Minghao feels tense, uneasy.

“And everything is good?” Minghao asks, before realizing it’s too vague. He has to toe closer to the line. “You trust him?”

Mingyu sighs a little but he gives Minghao a smile, which settles the Chinese boy’s nerves some. He can’t ignore the tightness he feels in his chest though, like he’s simultaneously had the wind knocked out of him and also has a pile of bricks stacked on his ribcage.

“I do. He’s a good guy, don’t worry.”

Minghao thinks about how Mingyu sees good in _everyone_ ; he’s not nearly as bad as Dokyeom but he still feels this inherent need to protect him from anyone who might exploit his warmth and kindness.

They begin take-off and Mingyu settles back in his chair, eyes falling shut.

For now, the lava beneath Mingyu’s handsome exterior has cooled.

But Minghao can’t shake the feeling of something inside himself starting to bubble and fester.

**\---**

Minghao doesn’t get a whole lot of details shared with him.

And that’s fine because Mingyu isn’t obligated to share anything. It’s his own private life (emphasis on _private_ ). But he’d be a lying fool if he didn’t admit that he wanted to be privy to a bit more. They’re best friends after all, right? And who better to share the intimate details of one’s life with than their closest friend?

All Minghao really knows is that the guy’s name is Minjae, he’s a computer science major, and he’s almost as annoyingly attractive as Mingyu.

The last bit of information is extremely new.

“Whoa, are we sure this Minjae guy isn’t an idol himself?” Soonyoung asks rhetorically, after having snatched Mingyu’s phone off the table.

The rapper had dumbly left it unguarded when a manager had called him over for a quick camera interview. He had evidently been scrolling through his photostream before discarding his phone.

“Hyung, stop,” Dino argues weakly, swatting at Soonyoung’s leg even though he’s laughing.

“Seriously, look at him!” Soonyoung shows the picture to Dino before turning it to Minghao.

He knows he shouldn’t invade Mingyu’s privacy, but he can’t help the curiosity as he leans in to get a better look at the picture.

The pair are clearly huddled together in a car, the assumed Minjae’s arm looped around Mingyu’s shoulders. They’re both wearing wide, toothy smiles and given the shirt Mingyu’s wearing, Minghao knows it’s from earlier that week, before they headed off to Japan.

And yeah, Soonyoung’s right; the guy is gorgeous. His skin is bright and clear, his hair purposely styled yet somehow seeming casual. He’s got great cheekbones and a flattering nose, kind-looking eyes. He’s bare-faced and he wears it so well; he doesn’t need any make-up or app filter. He’s definitely good-looking enough to be Mingyu’s other half.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Mingyu barks out, swooping in to grab his phone. His cheeks are dusted with pink and Minghao feels his entire body grow softer (fonder) because of it.

“You didn’t tell us your boyfriend was a hottie,” Soonyoung chirps, unashamed that he just got caught snooping.

Minghao sucks in a quiet breath through his teeth, his shoulders tensing. If he wasn’t young, healthy, and in shape, he’d think whatever he was feeling was something like a heart attack. He doesn’t know what’s causing it but it’s _painful_.

“He’s no Eunwoo though,” Wonwoo comments, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere and currently peering over Mingyu’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of the photo. Mingyu simply glares at his four-eyed hyung before turning the screen on his phone off.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Mingyu huffs, stomping over to the couch on the other side of the room and plopping down on it. He buries his nose back into his phone, ignoring everyone else around.

That tight, heavy mass in Minghao’s chest loosens itself slightly.

He doesn’t know what it is or what caused it, but he’s relieved to ignore it for a bit longer as he’s called over for his own interview, the few Japanese words he does know having seemingly run away from his mind.

It spirals pretty much out of control from then on.

Minghao isn’t used to losing control; if anything, he’s spent his entire life being _too_ controlled and now suddenly he finds himself stumbling over every little stupid thing that sends him for a loop.

Like when he pops into the other dorm to return a sweater he had borrowed from Joshua and he literally bumps into Minjae himself.

“Sorry,” the visitor laughs lightly, taking a step back. “I was just grabbing some water.”

“Oh,” Minghao replies, head empty. “It’s fine.”

When did Mingyu start inviting his non-boyfriend over to the dorm?

“You’re Minghao, right?” Minjae asks him, not moving towards the kitchen. He even leans against the wall like he’s planted himself there to have a full-blown conversation with Minghao.

Minghao doesn’t know why the idea of him having that kind of confidence annoys him.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you! Mingyu talks about you all the time,” Minjae says and Minghao can’t deny how friendly and nice he seems. Like Mingyu, but more mellowed out. He feels frustrated at himself for getting defensive so quickly when the guy seems as nice as can be. “I’m Minjae.”

Before Minghao can reply, Mingyu emerges from around the corner and stops in his tracks. He blinks at Minghao a few times before smiling (sheepishly? embarrassed?) and Minghao’s eyes hone in on how his best friend reaches up to curl his hand around Minjae’s bicep.

“I thought I heard you talking to someone. I wanted to make sure Wonwoo Hyung wasn’t bugging you like last time,” Mingyu says. Minjae’s laugh is sweet and almost melodic.

Wait… _like last time_? Minjae had visited their dorms before? And Minghao wasn’t introduced to him? Wonwoo had met him?

The rational part of his brain theorizes that maybe he wasn’t home, maybe he was practicing or in the studio or something.

But why wouldn’t Mingyu even tell him about it? Why wasn’t his ear used to vent about how Wonwoo had embarrassed him or made some situation uncomfortable? Why wasn’t Minghao told _anything_?

“Minghao, this is Minjae,” Mingyu finally says, his free hand fidgeting with the leg of his sweatpants.

Minghao manages a smile and nods.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Minjae gets out before Mingyu is practically dragging him to the kitchen, grip on his arm firm.

Minghao can hear them conversing, their voices hushed and raspy, as if they are speaking under their breath and trying to hide something. Hiding something from him, something Minghao isn’t meant to hear.

He buries the curiosity and slight… sting he feels by shuffling to Joshua’s room. He hopes the elder would be there but he finds it empty, immaculately clean, so he folds the sweater neatly and sets it on the bed.

Minghao waits until he hears the giggling couple disappear back down the hall, a door in the distance shutting, before he slips out and heads back to the other dorm.

He doesn’t see Minjae at the dorms after that but it’s not like he’s been snooping to find anything out. If Mingyu doesn’t want to share anything with him, fine. That’s how things will be. He needs to accept it, that whenever Mingyu wants to share about his personal life with Minghao, he will. That is if Minghao doesn’t die from curiosity or the awful knot that seems to be perpetually churning in his gut first.

Even if he’s not spoken to about Minjae, it’s definitely not the last Minghao hears of him.

Every time they have a free afternoon or a tiny break, it seems like Mingyu is spending all of his time with him. It doesn’t matter if Minghao asks him if he wants to grab dinner or if is interested in checking out a new exhibit in town; Mingyu is always busy.

“Ah. I can’t today, I have plans. I’m sorry, Hao,” Mingyu tells him after Minghao had asked if he wanted to go see a movie on their only day off before heading to the US for a string of tour dates.

Truthfully, Minghao had been expecting a rejection. He thinks this is the definition of insanity, trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results, when deep down he knows they’ll never change.

Minghao is about to slip away when he hears his name softly called.

“I really am sorry,” Mingyu adds. His expression confirms his sincerity and Minghao feels like a shitty friend for being even a little bit disappointed. His stomach bubbles with guilt. “When we’re in America, let’s do something. Just you and me. Yeah?”

Minghao nods and musters up the best smile he can. That knot in his chest is throbbing almost painfully and the smile just adds to the pressure he feels.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Minghao instead spends the afternoon with Jun, grabbing hot pot for lunch and wasting away a couple of hours in an arcade.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Jun asks him.

Minghao pulls out the air hockey puck from the goal slot and sets it back on the table.

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of us is good at games like this but you are particularly awful today,” Jun laughs. Minghao’s eyes flicker up to the scoreboard and for once, Jun has a point.

“I’m just tired,” he shrugs, knocking the puck with little to no enthusiasm.

Jun stops the disc with his striker.

“You’re not one to lie about things like this,” Jun chides him. Minghao snorts but gives in, letting go of his own striker. If Jun wants him to talk, fine. He’ll humor him.

His and Jun’s relationship has always been interesting. It’s one filled with role reversals, Minghao typically filling the position of the older brother. The two are such different sides of the same coin, personalities jarring and opposite. But given their backgrounds and the path they’ve been on together, there has always been tightness and a bond that Minghao hasn’t had with anybody else.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Minghao says with a humorless laugh.

The pair are currently idly walking back to the dorms, Minghao’s pockets jingling with unspent coins. The wind is bitingly cold even though there’s a clear blue sky above them.

“Is it about Mingyu?”

Minghao balks at the question, not having expected it.

Because while he knows deep down that yes, his mood and headspace have an embarrassingly lot to do with Mingyu, he didn’t know it was obvious to anyone, let alone _Jun_.

“Say no more!” Jun adds on. Minghao glances at him, his eyes narrowing. “The silence and redness of your ears are speaking volumes.”

Half-heartedly, Minghao throws his elbow into the other’s ribs.

“You don’t need to make jokes at my expense, I know how over the top I’m being.”

Jun shrugs, shoulders exaggeratedly jiggling. “Jealousy is a tricky thing. You should just be upfront with Mingyu about it, even if it’s easier said than done.”

Minghao stops in his tracks and it takes a couple of meters for Jun to realize he’s walking alone. Once he turns around and blinks owlishly at Minghao, the younger speaks.

“Jealousy? I’m not jealous,” he states firmly.

Jun’s eyebrows shoot up and it infuriates Minghao for some reason, so much so that he cuts in again before Jun can get anything out.

“I’m worried about Mingyu. He’s been dating this guy that he didn’t even know that well before they got together, he didn’t even know him well before we debuted, and he hasn’t been really talking about him at all. So I don’t really know what’s going on with them.”

“Is it your business what’s going on?” Jun asks blankly, slipping his hands into his pockets. Minghao scowls at how confident he is acting.

“I’m his best friend so one would think he would share things like this with me. Half the other guys seem to know more about his life these days than I do.”

“So you’re jealous that some of the others know more than you?”

“No! It’s just Mingyu has been spending all his time with Minjae and I feel like I haven’t seen him outside of schedules in forever. We hardly even talk.”

“So… you’re feeling abandoned?”

Minghao grumbles before he starts walking again, faster than normal. He brushes past Jun and doesn’t stop.

Jun jogs to catch up, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Minghao tries to shrug him off but he fails.

“I’m not making fun of you, you know. It’s understandable to be feeling--”

“I’m not jealous! Or feeling abandoned, or whatever you said,” Minghao barks, a bit more defensively than he knows he probably should be.

“Okay, okay, fine… well, whatever you’re feeling, it’s understandable.”

They round the corner and the dorm is insight. Minghao isn’t a big nap guy, but passing out sounds really nice right about now. Carrying around all of this… whatever it might be is pretty exhausting.

“How is it _understandable_?” he snorts.

“Because things have changed and people can react to change differently.”

Minghao doesn’t reply but his feet slow as a car pulls up in front of their building. He watches as Mingyu pops out of the passenger’s side door.

He’s oblivious to Minghao and Jun just down the block and Minghao feels like he’s spying, witnessing something that’s not for him. It’s relatively harmless, Mingyu bending down to poke his head back in the car before standing back up to laugh, his smile bright even from a distance.

“Whatever is bugging you, you should talk to him about it,” Jun’s voice tells him from somewhere that feels like lightyears away.

Mingyu shuts the door and gives an enthusiastic wave before jogging into the building.

Minghao watches the car drive off, chest uncomfortably tight. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

**\---**

There was a time once, when he was all too young, where Minghao was involved in a major dance competition. The prize was unprecedented as far as ten-year-olds are concerned: a spot on a very popular variety show in China.

Since he could remember, a strong work ethic was a natural part of Minghao's life. And so, like any other thing that interested him, he put his all into preparing for the competition. He ate, slept, breathed b-boying. He dreamt about performing, about winning. He, a mere boy, was the pillar of strength and motivation for his entire group.

And when they lost, when all that hard work seemed to be for nothing, Minghao took the loss gracefully. _Next time_ , he continually told himself. Next time, he would succeed.

There wasn't jealousy erupting from within him, he didn't envy the other troop. If anything, it spurred him to work harder, do better. He took the loss so well for someone his age, that's what everyone kept telling him. While his group members had cried, had whined, had vented out their frustrations towards the judges and the other teams, Minghao never did.

That's how he always had been wired. Minghao was not the jealous type.

So what does he do with himself now, a quarter of the way into his life and suddenly his insides feel like they're about to spill out in an eruption of green-eyed disgust? That's what he feels towards himself these days: absolute disgust.

It's like he's reverted, somehow aging backward into a childish brat who is constantly griping about how the world doesn't revolve around them.

Mingyu cancels plans, Mingyu evades anything that might lead to a conversation about his personal life, Mingyu is distant.

Mingyu feels so distant, lightyears away. And every time Minghao sees him smiling at a message or overhears him whispering and giggling into his phone, that ugly, disgusting green-eyed monster inside Minghao grows even bigger. The image of Mingyu practically bouncing out of Minjae’s car replays over and over in his head. It’s all so stupid.

It's interfering with his daily life at this point, with his work even, and he doesn't know how he regressed like this. How did all the wheels fall off?

"You alright, Hyung?" Vernon's voice rings out.

Minghao realizes he's been continually crushing and crunching the empty water bottle in his hand. He releases the grip and Vernon reaches over to gingerly take it from his fingers.

Mingyu's laughter rings out from somewhere and his fist goes to instinctively clench at the sound of it. But instead of seeing his best friend with his nose buried in his iPhone, he sees him and Hoshi attempting to stack paper cups on top of Joshua's head. The tower collapses at nearly a meter tall and the three all double-over in laughter, clutching hands.

Suddenly Minghao feels nauseous. He catches his reflection in the window beyond Vernon's head and it's as if he's removed from himself, observing his self from afar. And it's not just disgust he feels at the sight of his own face; it's disappointment.

Jun was absolutely, without a doubt, right. He is jealous; he feels abandoned.

"I'm ready for a break," he finally replies, vague. He doesn't elaborate; there are too many things he wants a break from anyway that he doesn’t need to share specifics.

Vernon smiles understandingly and nods, giving Minghao's leg a few pats.

"Just keep hanging on and you'll get a break soon."

Minghao sure as hell hopes so.

**\---**

Upon his revelation, he means to follow through with Jun’s advice, he really does.

But between the business of heading to America, brushing up on his English, visiting the doctor for his regularly occurring chest pains (which the doctor says are caused by stress; “try to meditate more”) and preparing for their performances, he can’t seem to find the time.

It may also possibly be because Mingyu is so caught up in chatting with Dino as they board the plane to New York that the pair sit together and Minghao ends up three rows in front of his best friend, beside Joshua.

And also when they arrive at the hotel and draw for roommates, Minghao pulls the one solo room. He’s about to offer it to Seungkwan, who is rooming with Mingyu, but the duo is a giggling mess and he doesn’t want to be the one to separate that. It would seem strange, he tells himself.

The whole group goes out for dinner that evening, renting out the back room of some fancy Italian restaurant. There’s a lot of wine and even more chatting; their first show isn’t for two days, tomorrow being a free day, so it makes sense that inhibitions are lowered.

Minghao’s on his third glass himself, well past buzzed but not really caring because he’s the most relaxed he’s felt in some time. It’s a welcomed change.

Even Mingyu slipping into the seat beside him when Jun disappears can’t burst his bubble.

“Oh, you got the red? Let me try,” Mingyu says rather than asks, swiping the half-drunk glass and taking a large swig. “Ah, this tastes so much better! I should’ve gone for red.”

“Then get a glass,” Minghao tells him, gently grabbing Mingyu’s wrist to take back his precious alcohol.

“I cut myself off. I don’t wanna feel awful tomorrow.”

“Mn,” Minghao hums, though he’s clearly not following the same thought process. But he’s proud of himself for resisting the urge to down the rest of his glass right at that exact moment.

“Speaking of… let’s do something together! I was thinking of hitting up The Met. Will you come with me?”

The way in which Mingyu asks, not if Minghao wants to go there too but rather will he _accompany_ him; will Minghao go with _him_. He feels ridiculously childish, like he’s been waiting for years for the popular kid at school to acknowledge him and here he is, personally inviting him to his birthday party.

He hardly waits for a beat before nodding a few times. Mingyu lets out a little squeal of a noise, scooting his chair over and leaning his torso onto Minghao’s shoulder. It’s an awkward position where Minghao can’t really move (not that he particularly wants to) and he realizes maybe now is the right time to bring it up, whatever it is he’s been experiencing. He doesn’t know what to say because even he hasn’t got a clue as to what he’s feeling. But it’s bothering him and it’s somehow linked in with Mingyu, so keeping it from him seems awfully close to deception.

Minghao turns his head, nose brushing against Mingyu’s messy hair.

“Mingyu--” he starts.

But then Seungcheol’s voice rings out and all eyes are drawn to him, including Mingyu’s, who sits up straight and leans onto the tabletop to give their leader his attention. Minghao’s shoulder and arm suddenly feel cold.

Minghao counts his losses for the day. There will always be tomorrow.

Except when tomorrow comes and he heads to his best friend’s room, he’s confused as to why he’s blocked from entering and instead tugged partially down the hallway by Seungkwan.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened but something is _weird_ with Mingyu Hyung today.”

Minghao blinks at the younger singer. “Weird? Weird how? Is he sick?”

“No. I mean I don’t know, but he was on his phone all night and took a call in the bathroom at like… 3 AM. And then this morning, he was just… _weird_. He didn’t wanna talk about it. With me, at least.”

It’s nothing new that sometimes Seungkwan’s interpretations of others are a bit skewed (like how he “jokingly” claimed Minghao and Mingyu don’t play enough with others) so Minghao is a bit hesitant to buy into the assumption entirely.

But Seungkwan’s recount of what happened does seem a bit off: private phone calls in the middle of the night, acting supposedly “weird”, Mingyu not sleeping every second he gets the chance to do so.

Minghao’s mind races with what could be the cause, from family concerns to something with a friend back home.

Or perhaps something to do with Minjae.

He silently berates himself for those kinds of thoughts.

“I’ll talk to him,” Minghao assures the other, giving him half a hug before he steps back to the hotel room door, which is kept open by the extra door lock.

He enters much more gingerly than he normally would, craning his head forward to peer into the main area of the room. He spots Mingyu standing between the beds, buttoning up his shirt.

“Hey! Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Mingyu asks, his voice sounding like its normal chipper self.

“Yeah. How about you?” Minghao asks, sitting down on the bed nearest to the door and popping back up when he feels something dig into his leg: the buckle of a belt.

Mingyu doesn’t reply and instead snatches up the belt and begins looping it through his jeans.

Him not replying normally wouldn’t be anything to wonder about, considering Mingyu’s abnormal habit of randomly ending conversations all the time to pick up a new topic. But given the heads up he’s received from Seungkwan...

“Are you excited? I’m excited. Maybe we can grab some pizza after too. Gotta have pizza in New York!”

Minghao hums in reply before picking up a bag he knows contains one of Mingyu’s cameras, pulling it out to fiddle with it, giving him something to do. He feels nervous for some reason, at the thought of cornering Mingyu again, making him talk.

“Okay, I’m ready,” the taller informs him suddenly.

Minghao tucks the camera away. He’ll bring it up when the moment is right.

For all intents and purposes, everything about the day is normal.

The manager hovers around close enough to them to keep an eye on their whereabouts, but for the most part, it just feels like the two of them hanging out. Minghao even feels comfortable enough to push his hat up off his face, so he can see the exhibits better. They aren’t bothered or stared at or even really noticed. Minghao does notice one girl leering at Mingyu for a bit too long, so his guard goes up; but the way she easily walks away leads him to believe she was just admiring his good looks and didn’t actually recognize who he was.

Mingyu is his chatty normal self too. He whispers somewhat garbled words into Minghao’s ear, cranes his head over his shoulder to glance at the museum map in Minghao’s hands, gently cups his elbow to lead him to a piece he’s particularly interested.

It’s almost silly how happy Minghao feels, being like this. Just two normal people enjoying a normal day. Not just any people, but he and his best friend. Quality time together, everything else forgotten.

He’s so happy that he lets himself slide into a comfortable state, no longer hyper-aware of how the rapper is acting, not keeping detailed tabs like Seungkwan’s words had encouraged him too.

But despite how wonderful Mingyu is, he gets sloppy sometimes. Especially when it comes to hiding his emotions. Minghao thinks it’s because he rarely does it, he’s often an open book one can easily read. He can seldom draw detailed information from Mingyu when the mood is of a more dismal nature.

Mingyu forces a few laughs at first, though it doesn’t alert Minghao too much; what really gets him is how he can feel Mingyu’s phone vibrating in his pocket (when he’s crowded all too close to Minghao to read a plaque about a Monet painting). Mingyu is _never_ the type to ignore his phone. He can hardly go five minutes without even looking at the thing.

“You’re allowed to check your messages even though we’re in a museum, you know,” he tells the other quietly when he feels it buzzing once more.

“Hm?” is all Mingyu replies before stepping out of Minghao’s personal bubble and towards some ancient vase.

“What’s going on?” Minghao presses. “Are you avoiding talking to someone?”

“No. I’m just trying to enjoy a day with you, uninterrupted. Is that such a bad thing?”

Minghao sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Truthfully, he’d be flattered if he didn’t know that wasn’t really the case. “Of course not. It’s just… out of character, is all. I just wanted to check if everything is alright.”

That seems to do the trick because Mingyu’s shoulders sag and his posture deflates in a way that makes him resemble a kicked dog. Minghao knocks their shoulders together and resists the urge to wrap an arm around him.

“You can always talk to me,” he quietly reminds the other.

“I know,” Mingyu says. “Just not here.”

Minghao nods once and pushes no further. There’s enough promise behind that to satisfy him for now. _Finally_ , a conversation. Maybe it’ll even be a good gateway for him to bring up the stupid, silly things he’s been feeling.

Minghao allows the other to tug him towards another room, the moment over.

**\---**

Mingyu’s insisted that they go to some pizza place he found on a blog, which is fine to Minghao because he’s not really into pizza anyway. Pizza is just pizza, no matter where it’s from.

After they eat, the manager disappears to go take care of the tab. Mingyu and Minghao wander outside together. It’s colder here than back in Korea, but Minghao doesn’t feel it as much.

“Minjae and I ended things,” Mingyu blurts out suddenly.

Minghao’s head jerks up and he blinks at the taller boy. “You did?” Mingyu nods once. “Oh. Mingyu, I’m so sorry,” he says, automatically reaching an arm up to slide around his back. He rubs a few slow circles and keeps his mouth shut, waiting for Mingyu to speak. If he wants to.

There’s a long stretch of silence but Mingyu leans into Minghao’s side. He’s always easily given in to physical affection.

“Some fans have been following him around for a while and he’s not… I don’t know, but he’s been stressed about it. Which I get. It’s for the best, he shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

Minghao doesn’t say anything, doesn’t nod. He just keeps his arm looped around the other.

“I just… I think something’s wrong with me.”

Minghao’s brow furrows. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Why would you say that?”

“I’m not sad about it. I mean I’m upset about what has been happening to him but I’m not sad about breaking up.”

Minghao gnaws on his lower lip and he’s about to speak when the manager steps outside to join them. The topic is dropped for the moment.

Their walk around a local park and the whole car ride back to the hotel, Minghao doesn’t find any comforting words to say.

That night, Minghao is washing up and he can’t stop thinking about Mingyu. He feels those worried little butterflies fluttering around inside him and he’s debating whether or not to message the other and tell him to come over when there’s a knock on his door.

It’s Mingyu, already in his pajamas.

Minghao lets him in and Mingyu wastes no time flopping onto the one bed that is clearly untouched. Minghao continues about his nightly routine before sitting down on the opposite bed, drawing his knees up to his chest.

“I’m almost _relieved_. Isn’t that messed up?” Mingyu finally says.

“No,” Minghao replies, though he doesn’t know what to say beyond that. He doesn’t know enough; Mingyu’s been pretty elusive about all his details regarding his relationship with Minjae. _One of the other guys would probably know more_ , he thinks to himself (disgustingly bitter). Minghao digs his fingernails into his palm as a way to discipline himself.

Mingyu picks at some fuzz on the comforter. “I liked him but I don’t think I liked him enough. And because of me, he’s under so much stress and feeling anxious. And I’m not even _sad_ it’s over. So how could it have been worth it for him?”

“That’s not for you to decide. He gets to decide if it was worth it for him,” Minghao replies, almost surprised with how easily the words come out. “And what are you talking about? He seemed really happy with you. You two seemed happy together.”

Minghao doesn’t think that will mean anything given he had only seen the two together twice and once was unbeknownst to Mingyu. But it seems to offer some comfort with how Mingyu smiles sadly and gives a little nod.

“He was my first boyfriend.” Minghao digs more crescents into his palm. “God, that sounds so stupid to say.”

Minghao shakes his head. “It’s not. First relationships are usually special.”

“It wasn’t my first relationship,” Mingyu scoffs. “What, you think he was my first kiss too? I had _loads_ of girlfriends before, you know.”

“I’m sure. Mingyu, the Anyang bicycle. Everyone had a ride,” Minghao teases, flinching and falling over as a pillow is chucked at his head.

And then they’re both laughing suddenly and it feels _so nice_ , so comfortable and warm, like Minghao is living in a fond memory when he and Mingyu were two peas in a pod, always together, never apart. Sharing everything from opinions to dreams for the future to the same bedroom.

“Mingyu,” he wheezes out finally, the laughter trailing off.

Mingyu is laying on the other bed, curled on his side, another pillow tucked into his chest. He looks over at Minghao through fluffy, clean hair and Minghao feels like he’s the worst.

He’s awful, absolutely despicable with the way he’s been acting and how his mind has been doing everything it can to victimize himself.

He’s taken one of the most precious relationships he has and bastardized into something that’s tarnished with jealousy and envy. What kind of friend does that?

"Mingyu," he starts again, forcing himself to slowly sit up. He gets a hum in reply, staring at the half of Mingyu's face he can still see. "I have a confession to make."

There's a long stretch of silence. Minghao expects some sort of response, a look his way or a prod further. But Mingyu is as still as he's ever seen him, face still half-buried in a pillow and legs curled up like he's a small child.

"Let me go first," Mingyu finally replies.

It's not anything Minghao had expected the other to say. But in his surprise, he nods dumbly.

Mingyu presses his entire face into his pillow and lets out a groan, the kind he makes when he's been awakened too early and has the blankets ripped off his bed. Eventually, he pulls his head back, face red and contorted into something that Minghao thinks looks a lot like shame.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," Mingyu says, voice soft. "I know it's obvious I've been doing that and I'm sorry. There's no excuse for it."

Minghao's stomach swirls and his mind goes blank. So it had been intentional?

"I wanted to talk to you about things with Minjae but it just... always felt strange to me. Like I know you had your doubts about things so I think I used that as an excuse to keep things to myself."

Of course, it was Minghao's own doing. Add it to the long list of disappointing developments he's gone through recently: scaring away his own best friend.

"At first, I just wanted you to like him so badly. And I didn't know if you would. I wanted your approval on him, which is so stupid. Even if you didn't like him, I know you wouldn't have tried to stop things or anything. You'd still support us, my decision. Even if you had something against him."

Minghao swallows the lump in his throat, averting his eyes. "I didn't dislike him."

It's true. It was never anything against Minjae personally. After all, Minjae was handsome and seemed kind and warm, the perfect match to all the good qualities Mingyu possesses. He appeared to be the perfect candidate to dote on Mingyu, to keep him company, to take care of him and be there for him when he needed someone, which he rarely ever admitted to.

And that's what Minghao hated. He wanted to be that person for Mingyu. He _was_ that person for him... until Minjae came around.

"Well, either way, I was too nervous to talk to you about it. And then..." Mingyu laughs suddenly, hand coming up to cover his face.

Minghao's eyebrows furrow together. What could possibly be funny about this conversation?

"What's so funny?"

Once his laughter fizzles out, Mingyu looks over at him. There's this strange, almost sad smile on his face but he just shakes his head.

"Eventually I realized that all the things Minjae and I were doing, I wanted to be doing them with you."

" _What_?" Minghao can't help himself from interrupting because suddenly there are images rushing through his head: him holding Mingyu's hand as they drive across Han River, the two of them cozied up together in a booth of some restaurant in Garusugil, Minghao leaning in and giving him a kiss. An actual lips-to-lips kiss.

"Anytime we would go out to eat, the first thing that would pop into my head was how I wanted to take you back there. And when he'd take my picture, I'd look at it and think that you'd have done such a better job. The movies we saw, the car rides we took, even the conversations we had--"

Minghao notices then how choked up the other's gotten. The tenseness of his mouth, the way his jaw is set; he's fighting back tears.

"See how awful I am? I was with him and I was thinking of you the entire time. I didn't even have the nerve to end it; he had to do that. And I'm so relieved about it."

"You aren't awful," Minghao tells him, repeating his earlier sentiment.

Mingyu snorts, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. He finally looks at Minghao for the first time since he's started his string of confessions.

Minghao knows he should say something, that this is the opportune time to tell his best friend how he's felt for what feels like eons. But he hesitates, not only because he's terrified to be so honest about feeling such atrocious things, but because he doesn't know if their confessions are exactly the same thing.

"I've missed you," he settles on instead.

Minghao wonders what it would be like, to hold Mingyu's hand in a different sort of way. He imagines what it'd be like to sleep beside him more intimately, out of want and comfort rather than just circumstance. He tries to envision kissing him, his always chapped lips that never stop babbling, the way he's such a messy eater and spits so often when he talks, it can't be the most pleasant experience to lock lips with him...

And yet, at the moment, Minghao is more curious than turned off by the idea of it.

"I've missed you too," Mingyu responds.

"It's my turn now, isn't it?"

So he gathers up whatever courage he has inside him, putting aside any pride and lets it all overflow out of him. The jealousy, the sense of abandonment, the ridiculous desire to be _the singular one_ that Mingyu turns to above all others. As embarrassing as it all is, he manages to get it all out (with limited tripping over his words) by avoiding eye contact with the other. His gaze dances from the ceiling to the floor to the pillow squished in his fists.

When he finally finishes, he forces himself to look over at the other; Mingyu's lips are parted and he looks a little bit confused, almost like he's seen a ghost.

"I don't wanna mess anything up between us," Minghao tacks on, biting back his bottom lip.

Mingyu finally sits up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed so that he's looking at Minghao head-on.

Instead of that ugly mass of jealousy he's been carrying around inside him for too long, Minghao feels something lighter. It's equally as present but it's a much more welcomed sensation. Instead of twisting and tightening, he feels something akin to his heart thudding, stomach fluttering.

"So," Mingyu starts, clearing his throat, "do you want to...?"

"I don't know," Minghao interjects. "I don't know what I want just yet."

Mingyu nods a little. "Do you want me to go back to my room?"

"No," Minghao tells him honestly.

He knows maybe it's not right, maybe it's unfair to Mingyu. But the thought of being alone right now is unsettling and he had meant it, he has missed his best friend. His presence, despite everything that's been uncovered, is always comforting.

It's the first night that the two have shared a bed willingly. There's no lack of room or space, no nightmares to comfort, no accidental passing out. Minghao even reaches out to curl his hand around Mingyu's arm once they're both settled under the covers, though he still keeps a very purposeful gap between them.

When Minghao wakes not many hours later, he finds the gap demolished. His chin is tucked against Mingyu's shoulder and their legs are tangled, warm feet occasionally twitching against his calf.

It's nice, he thinks. It sates something within him that had been eating away at his entire being for such a long time.

And Minghao wants more, he wants so much more.

**\---**

Surprised isn't the right word at all.

Because when Minghao and Mingyu fill in the other members on the recent "developments" in their relationship, they mostly get bobs of the heads and smiles that read something along the lines of 'this was inevitable' and 'it's about time!'

Especially Jun and his Cheshire grin. Minghao thacks him a few times for good measure because of it.

"Well, this one's got Eunwoo beat," Wonwoo teases, clapping a hand on Minghao's shoulder. The dancer snorts and Mingyu's face contorts into annoyance.

"Let the joke die already, Hyung!"

The ugly monster that had been eating away at Minghao's insides lays dormant now.

Instead, he's filled with something warmer and gentler; it swirls around inside him every day, tingling from his stomach all the way out to the tips of his fingers and toes. It buzzes quietly, a hummingbird beating its wings, sweeping away any lingering feelings of dismay or doubt.

Minghao finally has back his moments with Mingyu. It's almost as if nothing has changed; they still stay up stupidly late talking about their dreams and they adventure outside together for shared photoshoots. Their moments are just enhanced more now.

Instead of whispering from across the room, their murmurs of future hopes and plans are delivered in warm puffs of breath, limbs tangled and heartbeats felt. Their mini excursions that are filled with snaps of cameras now have more shared photographs: arms slung around one another, cheeks pressed together, and even once in a blue moon, the occasional stolen kiss.

"I lied to you before, you know. I'm sorry about that," Minghao confesses spontaneously one night.

It's early spring, still nippy and wet, enough that Minghao is shivering. From their bench along the Han River, Mingyu must notice because he scoots closer, their thighs and shoulders pressed together. He doesn't pull Minghao into him (Minghao almost wishes he would) because they're not alone, there are still a few people loitering around them. It's too risky for them to do anything like that in front of others but Minghao likes to imagine that one day, someday, they might be able to.

"You lied? When?" Mingyu asks. His voice reads as curious but definitely not concerned.

"I told you that nothing would ever change between us. And it has."

Mingyu turns his head, the hood of his sweatshirt and bill of his cap partially covering his face. He snorts and Minghao catches a glimpse of his canines.

"You're so dumb."

Minghao grins at the empty insult.

Or maybe it's the warm fingers he feels covertly wrap around his hand that causes his smile.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments are always appreciated~^^
> 
> [mark wilkinson - i'm on fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YN5Z09IdC6s)


End file.
